


Parted From Me

by MercutioLives (orphan_account)



Series: Severance [2]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Injury, M/M, Soul Bond, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-24
Updated: 2013-08-24
Packaged: 2017-12-24 12:17:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/939917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/MercutioLives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We meet at the appointed place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Parted From Me

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to be extra-sadistic and continue where "Never and Always" left off. This one's a bit longer and mostly introspective. There's also 100% more Bones in this one! I'm kind of sorry, kind of not. As before, translation for Vulcan is at the end.

Spock's silent grief was interrupted by the sound of Jim's communicator crackling to life. He looked up numbly and picked it up with uncharacteristically clumsy fingers. Uhura's voice, staticky but comprehensible, sounded amidst the white noise: _"Enterprise to_ _away team_ _. Come in."_

"Spock here." His voice was hoarse, as though he had not used it in ages; his throat burned even with those simple words. Nonetheless, he forced himself to continue. "Two to beam up. Medical assistance required. I am injured, and Captain Kirk..." He faltered, unable to make himself say the words. He felt emotion swim up the back of his throat, choking him, robbing him of air.

_"Commander?"_

"...I lost him, Nyota." Silence on the other end, then something far-away that sounded like a sob. In his arms, he cradled Jim's dead, sagging weight like it was the most precious thing in the world to him – and now, it was, for it was all he had left. He vaguely recalled saying something else, and having Uhura respond before signing off. Moments later, he was on the floor of the transporter pad, a Feinberger shoved in his face. He perceived McCoy pushing others away, and he must have been swearing, but it was all peripheral to Spock, who only had eyes for the still face of his _t'hy'la_. Someone tried to part them, but was met with a sound that could best be described as a snarl.

" _Ri estuhl'uh ish-veh. Ish-veh t'nash-veh._ "

"Spock! Spock, it's McCoy." He tried to shut the voice out; it wanted to take Jim away, and he could not allow that. A hand came down to rest on his shoulder, but he shrugged it away, curling tightly around Jim. He was so quiet, so still; he could not defend himself from these birds of prey who wished them harm. Spock would protect him. "Listen, you have to let him go. _Goddammit_ , Spock, he's gone!" There was more, and Spock was ready to destroy, to break, to hurt if necessary –

A brief sting at his neck, then everything went black.

 

 - - -

 

He woke to bright light and a throbbing headache. Instinctively, his mind reached for Jim's; there was a moment of panic when it found nothing – and he remembered. Jim was dead. His bondmate, the other half of his soul, was no more. There was only a gaping emptiness where his warmth had been, and Spock knew that to fill it again would be impossible. Closing his eyes, he pictured Jim's face when he was alive and whole: those bright blue eyes; that wide-open smile that carried laughter on its back; the warm impact whenever his hand came into contact with Spock's shoulder. All of those things were gone, pulled harshly and violently from existence, and there was no bringing him back this time.

Spock's musings were interrupted by a shadow falling over him, dimming the harsh lights somewhat. He blinked up and saw Doctor McCoy's grief- and fatigue-lined face hovering just above his own. The CMO seemed ready to react, should Spock become hostile again, but he did not and after a while his shoulders sagged with what may have been relief or exhaustion. In his right hand, he held a Feinberger, and the whirring was so loud to Spock's ears. His shields were in tatters, his control just barely intact, and that was worse than the fact that his body was evidently in horrific shape, judging by the expression on McCoy's face.

"I must go to the bridge," he murmured, words slurred by the aftereffects of what must have been an exceptionally strong sedative. McCoy preempted an attempt to sit up by pressing his free hand down on Spock's shoulder. Under normal circumstances, this would have been insufficient in keeping him still, but just now it was plenty.

"You're not goin' anywhere, Mr. Spock. Not 'til I say so." Spock must have made some sort of expression, because the doctor's softened a fraction. "Everything's under control. They're...well, they're managin'. It's you I'm worried about. What happened in that transporter room – that wasn't you. Even before, with Khan, you knew friend from foe. This was just..." McCoy shook his head and didn't finish, as if there were no words in his vocabulary to describe what had occurred. Piece by piece, it came back to Spock as the haze of the sedative lifted from his mind. He recalled the feeling of losing Jim, and the sheer animal frenzy as his control broke down with the bond. It hearkened back to the days before Surak, when his people were no better than barbarians fighting over territory and mates. He closed his eyes once more, and saw Jim's slack face behind them.

"I...apologize...if my outburst caused harm to any members of the crew." His voice was soft, barely enough to even qualify as a loud whisper, but McCoy seemed to hear him clearly.

"You didn't. You just wouldn't let go of Jim, and started growlin' whenever we tried to get at him. You were speakin', but I couldn't understand a damn word of it." Spock remembered; he could not manage the strength or will to feel ashamed of himself. He wanted to see Jim one last time, to say goodbye. He must have said so aloud, because McCoy sighed and pressed his thumb and index finger to his eyes. "Fine. But only if you promise not to go all _Exorcist_ on me again."

"Agreed." He did not understand the reference, but the context was enough. 

 

 - - -

 

Seeing Jim affected him more intensely than he had expected. He was so still; it was not like him at all. Spock felt his knees tremble and give beneath him, but McCoy was there to support his weight. It must have been difficult, for he heard the doctor give a soft groan, but it was sufficient in helping him regain his balance. Spock's hand strayed to Jim's face, fingers instinctively touching his meld-points – but of course there was nothing. No hint of consciousness to hold onto, no trace of the warmth and love that had come to define their bond over the years. That emptiness, more than anything, was what broke him. His legs buckled again, and he crumpled to the floor of the ship's morgue with a harsh sob. He pressed his face into his drawn-up knees and _wept_.

 

 - - -

 

Seven months went by, and in those seven months, Captain Spock of the USS _Enterprise_ had shut the door on his emotions. The fact that he had remained as captain was the only indication that he retained any sort of feeling at all; otherwise, he would have resigned his commission and left Starfleet entirely. He had intended to return to New Vulcan and pursue _kolinahr_ , but something within had disallowed him from giving the _Enterprise_ to another. _Jim would never forgive me,_ was the thought that swayed him, despite knowing it was illogical to think so. James T. Kirk was dead, and could not hold opinions or grudges. So he remained, and he commanded the flagship with perfect precision. No one ever spoke of Jim or sought to compare the two of them. The first and last time someone had made that mistake, Spock had been forced to spend the rest of his shift in his quarters meditating. He had come dangerously close to strangling the ensign who'd made the comment that Spock "was no Captain Kirk".

In the wake of his bondmate's demise, Spock had also reconnected with his father, with whom he now shared the pain of losing one's lifelong partner. Sarek had eventually remarried – another Human woman, Perrin, for whom Spock did care overmuch – but Spock knew that she was no replacement for Amanda. Spock also knew that he would never forge another bond; the thought alone sickened him. Jim had been his _t'hy'la_ , and to allow another into that sacred space in his mind was no less than a betrayal of Jim's precious memory. He spoke to Sarek on a semi-regular basis, when both schedules could facilitate the contact. It was during one of these conversations that the _Enterprise_ was attacked by a Klingon warbird at the very edge of the Neutral Zone. He bid his father goodbye and returned to the bridge, preparing to engage in the coming firefight.

It was short and brutal, and in the end the two ships were locked in stalemate. Spock saw only one logical option. Two-point-four weeks prior, they had confiscated an Orion interceptor, and it was small and fast enough to tip the balance of the incursion in their favour. Once it was deemed flight-ready by Engineering, Spock took it out. He did so alone, seeing no reason to sacrifice more lives than necessary. Uhura had protested, of course, but he was unfazed by her emotional reasoning. He knew that Jim would have taken the very same course of action in his place, and because of this, he knew he was doing the right thing.

_"Warning: collision course initiated,"_ announced the computer once he had locked onto the warbird. It repeated its message twice more as Spock fired on the Klingon ship. As he drew closer, he felt a wave of true calm overtake him. His mind was clear, almost meditative, and he could think only that he would soon be with his _t'hy'la_ once more. His final thought before impact was of blue eyes and clear, ringing laughter. Yes, it was the right thing to do.

_Parted from me and never parted._

_Never and always touching and touched._

_We meet at the appointed place._

**Author's Note:**

>  _Ri estuhl'uh ish-veh_ : Do not touch him.  
>  _Ish-veh t'nash-veh_ : He is mine.


End file.
